Ice Cream Fetishes
by Danigirl32
Summary: AU Liason. Sequal to A Jones For Jason. Jason Morgan ponders the woman becoming an obession


Hey! Well, I was asked for a sequal to _**A Jones For Jason**_, and I'm a sucker for sequals so here I am. :D Hope you like.

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

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**_Ice Cream Fetishes_**

**_Fetish_** _Fr. fetiche 2. Anything or activity to which one is irrationally devoted 3. Any nonsexual object that abnormally excites erotic feelings_

It was wrong.

Only he couldn't seem to help himself.

He should feel guilty but he wasn't.

And that made Jason Morgan a bad, bad man.

After spending most of his life determined to do right by the people he cared for he had finally come to the conclusion that he was just as corruptible as everyone he had inwardly felt sympathy for.

Perhaps that made him worse.

At least those others were willing to admit to weakness. They allowed for the occasion when the more primal instincts took over. Left a man susceptible to the allure of the forbidden. Made a man hungry for something he dare not think on too long for fear of taking a step across a line that is better left uncrossed.

He on the other hand was perfectly fine drowning in that river called denial.

He already had a taste. Knew exactly what he spent his darkest thoughts pondering. All he really had to do was close his eyes and the sensations would wrack his body leaving him breathless and aching for something best forgotten.

Life was finally back on track, but for one major exception that had managed to change his life in profound ways that he never believed possible. Sam was living at Kelly's, they were determinedly working toward repairing the damage done to their relationship and there were actually times when everything seemed to be just like normal. Work was good, his family and friends were going through a peaceful lull before the next storm and there were days when he could almost breathe easy.

Except for the minx who lived across the hall.

Six months pregnant with his child, Elizabeth Webber should not be the temptation that was threatening to break him.

It started during the late hours of Valentine's Day.

After finally accepting Sonny's old apartment, and being convinced that it was better for her, Cameron and their unborn child's safety that she keep the guard, things between them were relatively normal. Every day he watched her swell with the miracle they created that summer's night and every day his feelings bloomed into something he wasn't capable of describing.

Then he had walked off the elevator, soaked from the winter rainstorm that had cut his and Sam's night short, and found Elizabeth standing at her door arguing with her guard.

All she wanted was for the man to run out to the store.

It wasn't her request that had stirred something deep in his chest. It was her pale face. From the glassy look of those poignant blue eyes he knew she had been crying and the very thought of her sorrow laid him bare.

She had looked like the epitome of everything maternal. Soft, her skin glowed with pregnancy. Beautiful, her long hair fell in waves onto her shoulders. Except for the way she stood there in her jeans and bright red sweater that stretched over her distended belly, making him want to grin with self satisfaction, with her fists clenched in barely banked fury.

All she wanted was a fucking pint of _Wavy Gravy_.

The profanity stunned him, sending a wave of something best not looked too closely at through him. So he volunteered to get her some. His first question though, what in the hell was _Wavy Gravy_?

Thus began a month of torture.

It kept him up nights, poised on the edge of agony. Waiting. Secretly anticipating. Stirring with the allure of the dark craving that made his body lust for a woman that he shouldn't.

They had sat on her couch that night and she had confessed to feeling bad about spending Valentine's Day alone and the craving for ice cream had hit her hard. The first craving of her pregnancy. It brought feelings of bittersweet happiness, she quietly admitted, because the moment couldn't be shared the way she had always dreamed of.

And he had understood what she meant, as she pulled off the cap of the pint of _Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream_ that he had purchased from the store. A moment to be shared between two people in love who awaited the birth of their child.

Well, at least he was there when she needed him.

Then she sank that long handled spoon into the frozen dessert, twirled it until it was coated, then slowly raised it, slipping the spoon between her lips.

That fucking sound.

Lust had roared madly to life. Dick hard, mouth dry, muscles tense and hands itching to touch. Long dark lashes drifted down over her eyes that glittered with indescribable pleasure. The moan had purred deep in her chest, like whatever sensation had burst on her tongue had been almost...

Orgasmic.

Climatic.

Rapturous.

He watched, helpless to the demands of his body, blind to everything but Elizabeth. Memories of their one night together flooded past the barriers he had constructed in his mind. Images of them twined together assaulted him. Of Elizabeth's body curled around him on the floor. Of him pressing Elizabeth into the couch as he pounded into her. Of Elizabeth riding him, hands clenched on the rails of the bed, her lithe body bathed in the misty dawn light of Brenda's room.

And every time her warm wet sheath clenched around him, gripped his cock like a velvet fist, milked him until he spiraled toward his own shattering release, every time he felt her body tense then tremble at her peak...

_She made that sound._

By the time she glanced sheepishly up at him and admitted to finishing the pint, he had been so aroused that not even the cold shower he had subjected himself to after escaping her apartment had been enough to bring him down.

Forcing him to take matters into his own hands. So to speak.

The night should have been an aberration. He was with Sam, Elizabeth was his friend, the mother of his child and each aspect of his life was in its proper place. Then the one moment he had been secretly wishing for occurred. It was three minutes to midnight and the quiet almost hesitant knock on his door brought him downstairs to find Elizabeth there with a shy smile curving those lips he had woven one too many fantasies about. This time she wore blue pajama pants and a tank that didn't quite cover the baby.

Part of him couldn't decide if he wanted to place his hands on that swell because their child slept there, or just to feel the silken skin that beckoned him.

Could he, please?

Would he, if it's not too much trouble?

_Wavy Gravy._

He had been both appalled and eager to submit to the dark fantasy one more time and thus began his decent into a hell of his own creation. One that left him trembling with forbidden desire. One that chained the boulder of guilt to his back.

Every Friday night he sat on the edge of his bed and watched his clock. Watched each minute tick by, creeping closer to midnight, as he wondered if this would be the one night she wouldn't call. Desperately hoping the fantasy wouldn't end and feeling utterly guilty for that hope.

In the beginning, this obsession only haunted him after dark. Gradually it began to seep into his day hours. He would find himself standing at Sonny's listening to an order and his mind would drift off to Elizabeth. The way her pink tongue curled around the spoon as she slowly consumed every single trace of ice cream. The wicked image of her tongue giving such devoted attention to his cock was inevitable. Then she would lick her lips and release a breathless sigh as she curled deeper into the couch next to him.

She would admit the craving was a bad one, that she was forced to watch her diet for the rest of the week. She had even added a nice walk everyday to make sure she didn't pay for the indulgence. And all the while he could actually hear the words, but they didn't exactly penetrate the fog of desire thick in his head.

_Penetrate._

Bad word.

Then Sonny would call his name, jerking him from the daydream, achy and unsatisfied, and he would be forced to endure the heavy fullness in his jeans for the remainder of the day.

There had to be something he could do because he knew this was wrong but he just couldn't help himself.

Should he help himself?

_Help himself?_

A growl of annoyance rumbled free from Jason's chest as he stomped down the stairs, his eyes missing the clock flick to the witching hour of 11:57.

A soft knock, hesitant.

And he felt his dick lengthen behind the zipper of his jeans. He should just ignore it. Pretend he was out on business and that way she would send the guard for her ice cream and he would forget about this desperate fetish that was putting a strain on his life. His relationship with Sam.

His friendship with Elizabeth.

Before he could stop himself, his hand was curling around the silver knob, slowly pulling the door open to be greeted with the most agonizing sight he had ever bore witness to. If he could have roared out his frustration, tore his eyes away, he would have realized that his life had been forever changed.

"I know it's late, but I couldn't sleep. Can I come in?" her husky voice asked.

A wealth of carelessly tumbled hair.

A soft pink tee and pajama pants.

_Wavy Gravy._

And lord help him, Elizabeth Webber had discovered ice cream cones.


End file.
